


A Six.

by TunaCat



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Oral Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 17:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12635445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TunaCat/pseuds/TunaCat
Summary: Professor Wendy Carr entertains a student





	A Six.

Giving the same lesson four periods each day tended to make the last fifty minutes into somewhat of a routine, so long as no one interrupted her lesson, Wendy could proceed on autopilot. This week they were focusing on sexual orientation with a focus on the Kinsey scale. The material was hardly dense.

The bell rang, and Wendy sat behind her small desk in the lecture hall, careful to adjust her skirt as she sat down to sift through the growing stack of papers her students had handed forward.

“Professor Carr?" Came the quiet voice in front of the desk.

She caught her off-guard, most of the time students can't wait to get out of any class. But the young woman lingered, her pretty face failing to hide a look of extreme apprehension. Wendy searched her mind for her name. “Yes Alison?”

“Can I make an appointment to come see you during office hours tomorrow?” The words came out meekly, as the girl chewed absently on her thumbnail, her pouting lips nearly covering the rest of her thumb.

“Of course.” Wendy smiled warmly, hoping to put the girl at ease. “You know you are doing very well, though."

“I know- I just..." Alison seemed barely able to form the sentence and Wendy strained to even hear her.

“I'll see you at 3:15." Wendy resolved.

“Thank you Dr. Carr. I appreciate it.”

She seemed to almost trudge out of her classroom and Wendy noticed her slender shoulders slump and her hands self-consciously rub down the hem of her short skirt as she made her way towards the door. And despite her best effort at professionalism, Wendy couldn't help but notice the girl’s toned and supple legs. She wondered why she hadn't really paid much attention to Alison Murphy before; perhaps it was due to the fact that she sat in the back of the class, did her work, and never caused Wendy any problems. She couldn't help but wonder what she needed to talk with her about.

It preyed on her mind all through the evening and on through her first few classes the following day. What could this girl want? Her tone suggested that it was something more important than grades or an absence.

The time ticked by until the bell rang, and Wendy found herself at her desk in her office, watching the door, waiting almost anxiously for Alison.

3:15 on the dot, a gentle knock came.

“Please come in, Miss Murphy.”

Wendy had done her research on the girl the night before. Alison was one of only nine African American students in the sociology department and though quiet in class, she played tennis and was on the volleyball team in between seasons and got along tremendously with the other girls. Now that Wendy thought about it, it seemed that her demeanor had changed drastically in the past month or so. Instead of bouncing in through the door, she shrank through it.

Which was disappointing, considering the all too revealing top Alison was wearing presently.

The intrusive thought immediately disturbed Wendy. The second she’d had within 24 hours. After all, even though Alison was legal, she knew better. But her long-sleeved sunflower-yellow blouse, cut in a low-circle, showed off more of her breasts than she probably realized. Her skin was a mocha brown, perfectly complimenting her naturally dark features, her body toned and almost ridiculously thin from what Wendy could only assume was a lifetime of tournaments and training.

Alison seemed still uncomfortable as she eased herself into the arm chair in front of Wendy’s desk. She nervously looked around and compulsively moved a twist of her hair out of her eyes. Wendy got up patiently, smoothing her trim blazer as she moved to close her office door before returning to her desk.

“How are you doing, Alison?”

The girl bristled, fidgeting in her seat. “I’m okay.”

Best to get straight to it. “What’s on your mind, today?”

“It’s about the lecture yesterday, on sexual orientation and the presentation of choice? You made mention of how hard it was for gay and lesbian students-"

Surprised, Wendy searched for an appropriate response but came up short.

“Do you need clarification on the material?”

Alison shrugged shyly and Wendy continued, “As I said in class, when writing for Indiana State University, Dr. Alfred Kinsey theorized that sexuality could be measured not in either homosexual, heterosexual, or bisexual, but on a scale from zero to six."

"Zero to six.” She repeated.

"Zero being completely or almost completely heterosexual, and six being completely or almost completely homosexual. That's not the idea though, the point is most people fall somewhere in the middle, without knowing it.”

"Which was my concern-" Alison started, shifting in her seat once more. “How do you know?”

“Sometimes you have to make the decision yourself. And sometimes, you have to experiment.” Wendy knew where to draw the line but she still felt herself tiptoeing close to it. “Have you?”

Alison shook her head. “No. But I don’t think I like men.”

Wendy swallowed hard, eyes lingering a moment too long on the young girls’ cleavage yet again. “A lot of men your age aren't really experienced, despite what they might say. It's very likely your past relationships aren’t any sort of litmus test to what awaits you later in life.”

“And what about now?” Her eyes met Wendy’s almost pleading. “What did you do at my age?”

“Miss Murphy-“ She shook her head and it was Wendy’s turn to become uncomfortable. “I hardly think that’s appropriate.”

“But you’re a six right? You’re a lesbian, so when did you decide? When was your first time?” The questions seemed to flow easily from the girl now, throwing Wendy off balance.

She wasn’t shy about her sexual orientation but she wasn’t outward about it either. How Alison had gleaned that information, she wasn’t sure.

“What makes you say that?” Wendy asked, attempting to steady her tone.

“I saw you and Professor Stillman kissing last week in the faculty parking lot. I was helping to bring boxes to Dr Reinschild’s car.”

Of course. Annaliese seemed to think that any sort of PDA was acceptable if it was around colleagues and not students. Wendy had never put much thought into it because most of their interludes had occurred behind closed doors anyways. But still this day was bound to happen some time.

“Alison have you-“

“No, no of course not!” She gushed in a fluster. “I haven’t told a soul.”

Wendy relaxed the breath she had been holding in. “I appreciate your discretion.”

“Of course.”

That awkward silence lingered a little, and Wendy found herself pressured to fill it with anything. She started rambling, the words coming out without the necessary care required for such a loaded conversation.

"You’re into your second year of college now Alison. I’m sure you’ve experienced the culture on campus. Men encourage girls to try things with each other. And girls tend to feel more comfortable about their bodies in front of other women. It doesn't carry with it the stigma associated with males performing gay sex, so most girls try it out at some point.”

"So did you? Experiment on both sides?"

Wendy considered carefully for a few seconds before deciding to answer honestly.

"Once or twice. But I found my place, you will too.”

Wendy noticed Alison’s fingers absently move down to the hem of her skirt, adjusting her legs in a subtle way that revealed even more skin of her toned thighs. She couldn’t help but stare for half a moment, a certain hunger-pang striking her at the sight. Somehow Wendy tore her eyes away and managed to mumble some words over the roar of hormones coursing through her body.

“Was there anything else?”

Alison studied her for a moment before shaking her head. “No. I suppose not.”

She started to gather up her bookbag, and made her way to the door, her bag slung over one shoulder as she turned to leave. Wendy watched her hips as she left, her mind racing with images of the young woman. Their conversation didn’t seem to have much of a resolution and Wendy was left feeling confused about their interaction.

“Actually?” She looked up, startled as Alison appeared in her doorway once more. “There is something else.” The girl turned around to close the door behind her again, this time turning the lock on the frame. Wendy stood immediately, on alert.

“Miss Murphy.” She warned, moving to the center of the room with caution.

Alison smiled shyly, biting at her thumb again. “I want to know... what it feels like.”

“Alison this is incredibly unprofessional.” The words were there but Wendy’s voice lacked any ounce of confidence and they both knew it. This was escalating too quickly. Moments before she had just barely been entertaining fantasies of the young woman, now the girl was throwing herself at her.

“Just once, I promise. Please Professor Carr. Teach me.” Alison’s fingers pulled at her thin skirt, hiking the fabric up her hips in an invitation as she drew closer. “I want to you to be my experiment-“

Wendy made her decision. She didn't let her finish as she wrapped her lips around hers. Her tongue worked its way easily into Alison’s open mouth, and she felt hers, passive and unsure of itself. Her hands reached first to her student’s hips, pushing her down into the couch that ran along the far wall of her office where she could more easily take her. Alison reached up, her hands almost mauling at Wendy’s breasts through her blouse and bra as Wendy sucked at her neck.

"Oh God..." the girl panted, tossing her hair back as her twists of hair bounced with her movements.

Wendy pulled the top of her yellow blouse down over the swell of her breasts, exposing them fully. She worked her mouth down to Alison’s darkened nipples, watching each harden in her mouth as she used her fingers to play with the other. Wendy knew a woman’s body like the back of her hand and she was eager to please this inexperienced girl.

She dipped beneath Alison’s skirt, fingering the thin lace of her thong. She could feel how wet the girl was, even before her hand found her entrance. And yet, rather than finger her, Wendy moved to stroke her clit, pushing gently down on her most sensitive part as she sucked at her breast and Alison gasped her approval.

"Professor Carr...” her student moaned and Wendy vaguely thought about the thin walls of her office, hoping no one heard her.

Still, she continued and pulled Alison’s panties down to her ankles, ripping the fabric a little as she spread her legs apart. Wendy relished how she squirmed as she kissed the inside of her thighs.

She reached her tongue out, gingerly touching Alison’s clit. She jerked away at first, then readjusted, kicking off her ruined panties to give her better access to her. Wendy pushed her down gently to the couch, her bare feet moving up to rest on the cushions, her legs spreading across as Wendy lapped greedily at her pussy.

She moved her lips faster and faster over Alison’s clit, drawing circles backwards and forwards with her tongue.

“Oh, Professor Carr! I’m going to come!” She cried out desperately.

"That’s okay" Wendy said quickly, before returning to her.

She repeated the same position, this time with a little more force. Alison’s legs squeezed against Wendy’s head and before they parted again, her whole body shaking as she slowed down a little, careful not to overstimulate the girl’s throbbing clit. She let out a loud gasp, and then shuddered, shaking violently, before collapsing limp onto the couch beneath her.

“Six.” She gushed.

Wendy looked at her strangely. “Sorry?”

“I’m a six.”


End file.
